I'm really not."We were sitting outside in our screened lanai on a hot, summer, Sunday afternoon. Linda lay in the lounge chair beside me nursing her ...econd iced tea. I pretended to be immersed in a new paperback, but couldn't take my eyes off her. Her pale skin didn't tan well, but on weekends she poured herself into these tiny little shorts, I was sure just to keep me horny.Sex on Sunday afternoons had become a ritual for us - for her, really. I'd watch while she pranced around in front of me. I’d be worried about a message like this before I got ambushed, I didn’t like the beatings, but now I just can’t find the despair or anger or even shame that I had when I think about it. I could forward this to the Detective; instead I leave the message where it is. I have an hour to kill when I get a knock on my door before Mr. D sticks his head in. “Hey Guy dinner’s ready,” he tells me and I nod before turning back to my computer,” Did you want us to bring the plate to you?” “No I’ll get some. More

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